


Transition

by Nalyra



Series: A blackish red hue [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Murder Husbands, Original Character Death(s), Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 10:03:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6901471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/6561175">Baptism</a> and <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6572284">Awakening.</a><br/>If you haven't, read those first, characterization is directly built upon them.</p><p>Murder Husbands in Europe and... elsewhere. :)<br/>Smut in between... Hope you like it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please, let me know what you think :) if you like?!  
> It's great to see the hits and feedback, but I'm more than open to constructive criticism if you have some :).

Will drifts up to consciousness, awareness triggered by repeated sensations. It stings and it’s warm and it makes the hair on his arms stand up,  
a content sight leaving him in the process. Hannibal tongue continues to lick at the wound in his neck, mouth intermediately sucking, probably tearing it up again. Will basks in the slightly painful but utterly connected feeling for a moment, before he brings his arm up and holds Hannibals head there, softly grasping the hair and turns his own head to press a lingering kiss to Hannibals bloody mouth, grinning.

„It’s a good thing that you cook so richly, otherwise we would be suffering from blood-loss-induced weight loss…“

Hannibal bites at his lips playfully, tickling him lightly.

„One of the advantages of our special diet is that it is heavy on meat. We will replenish our blood soon.“

Hannibal sighs softly into the curls at Wills neck, tightening his grip around his middle.

„It is almost nightfall already. I believe we should get the wounds dressed and then go out and find your rumbling stomach something to fill it with.“

As if on cue Wills stomach indeed rumbles and he laughs, turning, dragging the blanket with him. It gives after a forceful tug and Will suddenly has the whole sodden thing in his hands, bloody again and Will realizes it must have been stuck against Hannibals back. He raises his eyes at Hannibal, who appears utterly relaxed and blushes wildly, considering an apology but then realizes he meant to erase the stupid brand and so he doesn’t. Hannibal eyes are crinkled when he refocuses on him, probably reading his thoughts right there on his face, and he clears his throat.

„Do you wanna stitch that?“

„Do you wish for it to scar?“

It’s not quite clear which wound they are talking about and Will takes a moment to consider, coming to the subsequent realization rather quickly.

„Yes.“

Hannibal pulls Wills face to him with both hands, kissing him deeply, slowly, only for the pleasure of kissing now, leisurely, fading it out with soft touches that take away their breaths nonetheless.

He pulls away and stands up, almost taking up the rest of the little room and holds out his left hand and Will lets himself be pulled up, somewhat distracted by the way the fresh blood from Hannibals back makes it’s way down his body. He has to clear his throat again and flashes a lewd grin at Hannibal, feeling free and secure in his feelings suddenly and then drags Hannibal to the bathroom. 

They step over the soiled clothes they left there on the floor and Will cannot seem to tear his gaze from Hannibals back when he turns to the shower. It’s a bloody mess, the Verger seal virtually nonexistent anymore and Will is almost panting from the way this makes him feel, arousal spiking. His fingers itch to tear it up even more and he has to laugh softly at himself, making Hannibal smile at him smugly and knowingly. Hannibal softly grabs his head with his right hand over his ear, thumb softly stroking and then goes to their suitcases in the hall, leaving Will standing there bewildered, but returning quickly. He pushes the small bottle into Wills hand and now Will is indeed panting again, watching as Hannibal goes into the small shower stall nonchalantly and gives him a look over the shoulder that clearly tells him to get on with it.

His fingers are shaking when he opens the bottle, feeling foolishly overwhelmed even though they have been doing this on a rather regular basis since Amsterdam. He pours a generous amount over his right hand fingers, the left coming around Hannibal, placing it over his heart. Will prepares Hannibal slowly, taking his time, ignoring his own stomach or Hannibals little ‚Will’s, until he can gently and easily move his fingers in a slow rhythm, and he hears that little hitch in Hannibals breath that means that he is not bracing anymore at all but pushing desperately for more. Only then he slicks himself up even more, making the whole glide in almost without resistance, and it pushes an almost surprised exhale out of Hannibal, who seems to focus solely on holding himself up against the wall now, eyes shut, control completely transferred to Will. Will holds himself still, lets the need build itself up in them both, keeps Hannibal still by the hips, feels the bloody mess seep against his chest and down on their union, feels Hannibal shiver and shake against him. And then he snaps his hips, listening closely to Hannibal with half a mind, and just gives in to the urge to take, hard and deep, feeling Hannibal shudder to completion almost immediately, and follows close behind, the staccato beat of Hannibals heart under his palm matching his own.

He moans with Hannibal when he slips out, and finally gives into the impulse and laps at the raw flesh on Hannibals back, before he turns Hannibal and almost brutally shares the taste, kissing wildly, messily. He feels Hannibal move in his embrace and jerks and sputters when the icy cold water descends on them both. Hannibal grins sneakily and pecks his lips, his tone mischievous.

„I believe I hereby may have sufficiently cooled your ardor, at least until we have actually gone out and have eaten something, do you not agree, my dear?“

Will puts on an exaggerated sour face and hits him in the shoulder affectionately, but cannot help but grin and snort, turning again and tilting his head back for Hannibal to wash his hair.

______________________

They walk down the street behind their little house in search of a seaside restaurant, hands almost touching, the wind catching the loose shirts they donned after dressing their fresh wounds, Hannibal insisting on antibiotics but keeping the dressing minimal. 

After a while they pass close to a small not quite fancy restaurant called O’Pedalo and Will doesn’t even look at the menu, instead driven to the little open terrace, view over the bay and several marinas to one side. They are lucky to get a table near the railing, the sunset basking the bay in its last warm rays and Will just sits there for a moment, drawing deep breaths, enjoying the atmosphere. He opens his eyes to Hannibals deep red ones, probably committing him to memory. He gazes back, relaxed and only breaks eye contact when the waiter comes to their table. He picks up the menu and chances a look around. Apparently this place has some really good pizza and so he grins at Hannibal and then orders one with tuna and onions, complimenting it with rose wine, his louisianan drawl recoloring the soft french words. He more feels than sees Hannibal shiver from the corner of his eyes but cannot quite tell the cause, deciding that needs more scientific examination, and asks for the dessert menu, seeing Hannibal shiver again. So, not -only- the pizza then. He turns back to Hannibal, listening to him order some fish with a lemon-garlic-sauce in perfect french and raises an eyebrow at him when the waiter is gone.

„I do admit, it must be rather terrible now, but I wouldn’t have thought it would affect you so.“

Hannibal sighs a short laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling, eyes boring into Wills, dark now with the sun gone. 

„Au contraire, mon ami, it was purely my reaction to hearing you speak french for the first time. If I had known you still possess that inelegant but fascinating accent in french, I would have made sure to incorporate speaking it a part of your therapy. It fills me with unexpected pleasure to hear you utter the words and I must insist you speak it with me more often.“

Will makes a show of mulling over ‚inelegant‘ and ‚fascinating‘, knowing full well his accent will be used by him to needle Hannibal in full extent from now on, conceding with a slight duck of his head. And he might have known. He downs the wine too fast, conversation almost non existent but easy, both enjoying nightfall and each others presence and he is already quite tipsy when the food arrives, the sheer amount making the dessert menu superfluous after all. He closes his eyes when he is done, enjoying the slight cool breeze, hearing Hannibal call for check and pay. Hannibal takes his left hand and pulls him up, and Will goes willingly, opening his eyes to Hannibals when he stands, realizing he doesn’t care to hide anymore, the thought followed by the realization that he would indeed burn the world down to keep this. It must show on his face because Hannibal gazes at him openly, dangerously smug yet thoroughly taken, and then interlaces their fingers, ignoring all the other mere mortals - people Will has to remind himself - when they leave.

They turn towards the marinas and analyze the possibilities of getting a boat for Will there. The smaller, not quite so pretty one has several slots open still, and Will cannot help but grin at the prospect. He turns to Hannibal, speaking quietly into his ear.

„Do you know the show ‚Dexter‘? There’s no gulf stream here, but maybe we could use the boat in a similar fashion…. when the time comes.“

„I am afraid I do not know of this ‚Dexter‘. But, tell me, Will, what do you think will happen, when the time comes, as you put it so eloquently? Do you think it will be like the dragon? Will you partake in a hunt as you did in Paris? Do you wish to cull the herd of the rude that will undoubtedly pass us by? “

Will inhales, brows drawing together.

„You’re asking about my design.“

„Indeed. I enjoyed our time in Paris immensely, and I am confident that you did as well. However, I have long since given up predicting you completely and I believe we should try to not raise suspicion for the time being. What time do you wish for it to come to pass?“

Will gnaws on his lower lip, words coming slowly. 

„There… there’s a high probability they’ll catch us again. I’d rather not draw them to us, so I’d say the merely rude should be safe and the hunting off for now? However, I want to… I want to feel this with you, I want to hunt with you, create …..“

He trails off, swallowing and Hannibal raises his left hand, fingers trailing along his lips. Will whispers against them, lets the darkness show and flow between them.

„I wish to brand the face of the earth with our design and get away with it.“

Hannibal eyes are fathomless black, and he ghosts his lips over Wills. 

„My magnificent boy. We will find a way.“


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal spends the next few days mostly on official business, charming his way through incomplete forms and contracts, getting the house online and connected within 48 hours while Will enjoys the ocean and goes grocery shopping. With an approved list of course. As soon as the data connection is green, Hannibal is back to online shopping, to Wills unending amusement. It’s not only clothes this time though, slightly more stylish, shirts and slacks mostly, but apparently Hannibal is unhappy about the kitchens utilities as well. Two days later new blankets arrive also, though Will is secretly somewhat unhappy to see the bloodied one getting fed piece by piece to the flames of a small outdoor chimney barbecue grill Hannibal bought for this precise purpose. 

Wills wound has scabbed over without bandaids now, though Hannibal still changes the dressing on his back regularly. They keep to themselves, the neighbors apparently thinking them on vacation and Will is rather glad about that. It’s almost a week later when Hannibal comes to Will with his Macbook, Will once more sitting outside in the sun against the wall, and shows him a site with various boat listings on it. Will raises his eyebrows at him, scrolling through the vast selection.

„I would like you to pick two boats for us. One for now, here, so to speak. The other I want you to prepare for eventualities. It should be a boat we can both live on for an extended time, not unlike your ‚Nola’, the irony of her naming not having escaped me, as I am sure you know. We will leave that one at another marina, so the smaller one should be fast as well, in case we need to make our escape. I would like to harbor it at that small marina near the restaurant.“

Will hums, pleased with the thought and happy with the prospect of getting onto the sea again. He settles on an older ‚Princess 410‚ rather quickly, the boat more than comfortable for two and reminiscent of the boat Chiyo rescued them with. And the design is a bit older, making it more inconspicuous, though Hannibal mumbles something about the interior decor right away. Will ‚tsks‘ at him, switching through the speedboats, and, keeping Hannibals preferences in mind, picks a sleek boat design, with teak and two outdoor motors, which Hannibal immediately likes.

„I was under the impression you prefer sailing boats.“

„I do. But. If we need to get away fast most of the mediterranean distances are short enough to travel by motor and we’re not as dependent on the weather. However, if we decide to cross the atlantic again, I would exchange it for a sailing boat sufficient for us. But we could do that in Portugal, maybe.“

Will looks wistfully for a moment, remembering the ‚Nola‘ which he sold in Portugal as soon as he set foot on land there, almost 4 years ago. Hannibal inclines his head, regarding him thoughtfully.

„Would you like me to track her down?“

Will shakes his head and smiles sadly.

„No, but thank you. I’d guess the red flags would be immediately up if we only get near her.“

Hannibal puts his left arm around Wills shoulders and just keeps him close for a moment, head inclined, his breath behind Wills ear, tickling, lips ghosting over the shell, before he takes the laptop from Will and completes their purchases with a few clicks. Will shakes his head, grinning at his own bewilderment, seeing the numbers and knowing they will hardly leave a dent. 

„I wonder how many truffles you would have to buy to leave a serious impact on that….“

Hannibal tilts his head, amusement obvious.

„Several thousand I believe… of the size of cauliflowers perhaps? Or probably made of gold?“

Will snickers, then gets sobers up real fast, somewhat surprised it still matters.

„Did she like all those truffles?“

Hannibal reply is swift and rather smug.

„She was not allowed to eat them. Bedelia was fed specifically to improve her taste. I wished we could have experienced the full effect of this diet, but, as it is, I still believe her meat was permanently positively influenced by it.“

„Do you still wonder about mine?“

Hannibal hesitates, licking his lips, eyes drifting over his face, his body.

„I have sampled every taste of you I wish to taste, now. I will not taste your flesh again, except you offer it yourself.“

Will chews on that for a while not quite able to put the slight discomfort he experiences at that into words. He touches the bite scar on his neck, just below his collar and exhales slowly, his movement tracked by Hannibal in an intense stare, unrepentantly letting his hunger show. Will swallows.

„I … I don’t want to be hurt anymore. As in ‚hurt‘ hurt? No more sawing my head open or letting frustration take form of a knife. Please.“

Hannibal listens to him closely, inclining his head minutely, silent. Will stumbles on, blushing and hating himself for it.

„I did like -that-, and I don’t mind you getting carried away a bit in the throes of passion, and I have to … admit that I rather like the intensity of it… And I never want you to feel like you have to pretend with me, again.“

„I assure you, I never pretended to…“

Will cuts him off, knowing Hannibal hates it but not caring right now, words rushing now.

„You let go truly and wholly only when we got here. Before, there were no person suits anymore, no, not for me, but you were reigned in nonetheless. I want to be able to fully experience this with you. I already love you, I don’t want the hearts and flowers routine, we are way beyond that, I wanna be fully realized with you, also fully realized, at our full potential.“

Hannibal just looks at him, the shadows in his eyes at the forefront, pupils blown, not moving, his stillness bordering on unnatural, making Will fidget while waiting for a reaction. Will has to rewind his words, in order to realize the cause and his mouth opens to a silent ‚oh‘, before the thud of the laptop, carelessly thrown on the ground registers, only milliseconds, before Hannibals arm draws him in, the hand tangling in his hair, slotting their mouths together, the other arm crushing Will to him, hand on his ass. Wills head bumps against the wall and he moans in brief pain, and tries to hold onto Hannibals shoulders for leverage, Hannibal not drawing back, pressing him against the wall, kissing messily, tongue pushed deep until Will surrenders to him, just taking, breath pushed into his lungs by Hannibal, just enough. The edges of his vision draw in, tunneling until nothing else than that mouth matters anymore. The slide of Hannibals tongue against his own makes him shudder violently, and then Hannibal begins to suck on his tongue rhythmically, with deliberate intention, the knee pushing between his legs echoing the motion, Will moaning loudly now, fingers flexing against Hannibals shoulders. Hannibal moves his hand from Wills curls to his throat, increasing pressure in small increments. Will is so aroused and lightheaded now nothing else exists except that wet heat devouring him and then Hannibal bites down onto his tongue, drawing blood, knee pushing viciously, the hand on his throat bruising now, preventing all breath and Will comes hard, painfully, silent, jerking but held in place, body hidden from view by Hannibals, worshipped, protected and surrounded.

He must have passed out, he realizes when he opens his eyes again, taking stock of his surroundings. His head is in Hannibals lap, still outside, Hannibals sitting with closed eyes, relaxed, one hand on his collarbone, the other in his hair, playing with his curls. He turns from his side fully onto his back, looking up at Hannibal, and swallows painfully. Hannibal doesn’t open his eyes.

„I am afraid it will bruise. I apologize for getting carried away.“

Will huffs a laugh, raising his left hand to trail his fingers along Hannibals mouth, the silver strands of his hair almost glowing in the sun. He clears his throat, ignores the pain, or the stickiness of his pants.

„Please, you can get carried away as often as you want. So, this is the reward I get when I say that I love you? That’s some fantastic conditioning, you’ve got going….“

Hannibal adam apple bops, the only reaction for several seconds before he opens his eyes, still black and levels his gaze at Will. 

„My love for you has destroyed and recreated me. I have sought to destroy it, then nurture it, it’s acceptance almost obliterating me. I had thought myself incapable of feelings such as this since … Misha. I thank you.“

Will looks at him curiously, somewhat disappointed not to hear the words back.  
Hannibal smirks at him, the hand from his hair tracing the scar on his forehead. 

„I believe you know exactly how I feel for you, my wicked boy. I will say it to you when I feel it is appropriate.“

Will raises his eyebrows, expression somewhat unbelieving but amused at the same time. Trust Hannibal to be an obnoxious bastard even in this. Because of course he is. Will closes his eyes again and just dozes in the afternoon sun in the half shadow of the little trees growing in their backyard, his head cradled in the lap of one of the most dangerous killers. Who just happens to be in love with him.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s an easy routine they fall into. Walks to and from the marinas, equipping and stocking the boats and redecorating their escape vessel on Hannibals insistence, grocery shopping and cooking together, though the cooking part is mostly Hannibal cooking and Will getting in the way, having way too much fun. Physiotherapy, training, physical exercises and physical pleasure. Sometimes they go to the movies to see a broadcast of one of the big operas and Will knows Hannibal must miss the real experience dearly though he never mentions it. Discussions about books and philosophy. They never mention hunting again after that night, the awareness of possibilities always there, lurking and waiting. The meat is organic for now.

By the time summer comes around in full heat they are both very tanned, having spent a majority of time on and with their boats, the decision to christen them on the names „Demeter“ for their escape boat and „Churchill“ for the speed boat a hard won compromise. Will takes the Churchill out on a regular basis, having it equipped with some fishing gear and even manages to drag Hannibal out with him at times, swimming with the sharks, no other human being around them for miles. Wills hair is lighter, auburn shot, his eyes startling blue in his tanned face, Hannibal almost white blond, the silver only enhancing the glow more. They look nothing like their interpol photos anymore, the only discerning marks the scars they both wear, though Will sometimes even uses makeup on them when they go out, other times just letting his curls fall over his forehead.

Will deliberately hangs onto his accent even though he converses often in french with Hannibal now, or with their neighbors who they let believe them to be a couple on a sabbatical, the story close enough to the truth to fit well.

It is a shock when the front door opens without warning on a warm July evening and Chiyo enters and steps out onto their terrace without further preamble. Hannibal only raises from his seat at the table and goes to fetch her a glass of chilled fruit wine, while Will simply feels shell shocked, staring at her openly from his squat beneath one of the trees in the backyard.  
Hannibal refills his glass as well. Chiyo nods her thanks, regarding Will neutrally and sits down primly on the little bench beneath the window. 

„I have come to bring information about the bounty.“

Will doesn’t need to ask what bounty. It has been very far from his mind, but never gone. He exhales, relishing the trickle of excitement he can feel in his bone, feeling Hannibals sharp look, hearing his discreet inhale. Of course he would know immediately.

„To employ doppelgangers has been a successful endeavor. The official resources have bean spread thin over the last few months. I must admit, I did not expect you to be so successful. Staying off the grid of their awareness.“

Her melodic yet stilted voice is almost without inflection, yet Will can feel resentment and envy from her, the latter something he didn’t expect. He smiles sardonically at the ‚successful’. She probably didn’t think they would be able to stop their killing spree for now. Doppelgangers, huh. Will thinks of Anthony Dimmonds photo in that crime folder so long ago, and cannot help but wonder if Hannibal picked those doppelgangers himself. He tilts his head, opening himself some more, listening closely when she continues.

„The Verger bounty has been doubled. For each of you. Information dropped strategically on Tattle Crime has them believing you to be in South America however. I have not been able to pinpoint the exact location of your former keeper, however I have reason to believe they have taken up residence in the rocky mountains.“

Will chances a look at Hannibal, face carefully neutral. Alana or Margot never came up between them since that night in Scotland, when that sailor tried to make the cut. He carefully probes his own feelings on the possibility of Alana making a reappearance and what it would inevitably mean, finding himself surprised he wouldn’t mind too much. But. He cannot help swallow when he remembers his own childhood, the mother he never really knew. The child would be 4 now, too young to retain real memories. He exhales through his nose, bumps his head on the bark behind him, Hannibals head coming up, eyeing him like a shark scenting blood. He gives a small, tight smile that he nonetheless hopes is reassuring, and swallows. He chose his path. Chiyo senses the shift in the atmosphere and inclines her head towards him, including him more.

„They have employed at least two professional hitmen that I know of. I believed them to have lost your trail after Paris, though one of them seems to have strategically combed through boat sales, at the whole coast, which explains why it has been so quiet for so long. He has been making inquiries at the Nice city hall yesterday morning. I am afraid it is only a matter of time now. The other has returned to the US, not believing you have stayed so close.“

Nice is only 2 hours away. So, that hitman will be coming for them in a few days at most. It thrills him, fingers itching for cold metal. Hannibal purses his lips, eyes twinkling. He stands up, holds his hand out for her and she steps close to him, not taking it. Hannibal smirks, dropping his hand, inclining his head in thanks.

„I thank you for the information. We will be able to take it from here. However, I will need a contact for … supplies. Will you be willing to relay one?“

Chiyo inclines her head, nod almost nonexistent and just leaves. 

Will raises his eyebrows, eyes closing for a moment and chuckles. 

„For some reason, there’s a small part of me that’s missed her.“

Hannibal looks at him, gaze intense, then comes over and pulls him up by his arm, taking him into his arms warmly, ozone from the sea and the salt on their skin evaporating and tickling their noses, and presses him softly against the tree, chest pushing against chest. His right hand comes up to Wills throat, thumb pushing under his chin, forcing Will to look him in the eye.

„It appears as if the game is on again. I believe we may be forced to leave this place. And soon.“

Will smiles softly, minute sadness playing at the corners of his mouth, there and gone again, voice almost lost in the warm breeze.

„Apparently that will always be the case as long as that ransom is called out by them.“

He blinks, and then sighs, raises his head and kisses Hannibal softly.

„I won’t stop you. Cause that what you want to do, isn’t it? Track’ em down, and make them call off the stupid bounty. Keep your promise to Alana. So we will ‚only‘ have to bother with authorities… „

Hannibal nips around his lips softly, teeth only tugging.

„I do. She died in my kitchen that night. However, I also did promise her to save you. Deliberately putting you into harms way is probably counterproductive to that.“

Will draws back, huffing, thrown, shaking his head.

„You did what?“

„At muskrat farm. Alana freed me so I could save you, needing the monster to stand up for herself and stay out of prison, winning it all for the time until I would be able to fulfill my promise. She made me promise.“

Will turns his head away from Hannibal, mind reeling, refusing to be distracted by Hannibals mouth on the scar in his cheek, on his pulse, that night coming back in full focus, Hannibals admission triggering unsuspected bitterness, and he tries to squirm from Hannibals embrace.

„Too bad you had to carry your promise through the snow to Chiyos car I guess.“

Hannibal hums, amused and refuses to let him go, settling his weight more firmly.

„I didn’t know you were awake.“

Will slumps defiantly against the tree, emotionally drained suddenly, the memories so painful still.

„There are flashes.“

„Would your knowledge of my promise to Alana have made any difference to the way we parted that morning? To the way you stood by as they took me away the next evening?“

Will closes his eyes, letting the pendulum swing for a moment, grinding his teeth. No, it wouldn’t have. But it does now. 

„I don’t want Morgan to grow up knowing his mother was killed due to an old promise. I want him to have both his mothers until he is at least old enough to understand.“

Hannibal tilts his head, hearing the odd note in his tone.

„What is it you are suggesting?“

Will licks his lips, eyes opening again, dark blue steel, raising his chin, determined to pass the test with flying colors.

„I need to know which supplies that contact has first.“


	4. Chapter 4

They arrive at the club Chiyo texted the address to at 11 pm, wearing dress pants and shirts, open at the collar, hair and in Hannibals case beard tamed, scars camouflaged by makeup. Hannibal carries a small suitcase with almost as much cash as that weekender a felt lifetime ago contained. The suitcase is discreetly inspected by a handful of bouncers before they are invited in. The music is like a punch to the stomach when they enter, hard beats and laser lightning illuminating the crowd in psychedelic flashes.

They make their way through slowly, staying off the dance floors, some space between them, until they reach the VIP lounge. Hannibal gives a codeword Will cannot quite understand and doesn’t care for anyway and they are escorted to a backroom with even more bouncers and security than at the front door. They are checked thoroughly and then ushered in, the suitcase inspected again and taken away, Will looking around at the dark red room in amused bewilderment, calm and focused in this shark tank. There are desks and desks of …. stuff. Weapons, clothes, jewelry, electronics. Whatever you might need to do any kind of illegal activity. Will almost snorts at the bazooka, imagining laying in wait for their destined prey on the roof, the image at once ridiculous and tempting.

Hannibal gives him an encouraging smile and then proceeds to shop for weapons. Scalpels, various knifes, and guns with silencers enter negotiation. Movement trackers and other surveillance equipment. Kevlar body armor for heavens sake. Will tunes the ensuing haggling out, the bargaining all in good friendship of course and slowly drifts by the laden tables, stopping at a small black box with very distinct markers. He carefully opens it, reads the label and exhales a breath he wasn’t aware of holding. He slowly closes the box again, picking it up, feeling Hannibals gaze, and the merchants pleased grin. He adds it to the stock of items Hannibal has selected and looks him in the eye. 

„With this. And it will be me.“

____________________

 

They leave the club roughly 2 hours later, the underground merchant very pleased by the instant money transfer by wire of a high 6-digit-sum, done by Hannibal on an iPad without as much of a twitch of an eye. Will is distinctly aware that his little item amounts for just about half of it, though he cannot bring himself to regret it. 

They decide to walk back, since it is only approximately an hour by foot, their items being packed and ready to be delivered by next morning, Hannibal apparently unconcerned and Will just taking his cue from him. The night is warm and though they are in unsavory parts of the city now, the thugs stay away from them. Apparently they have good instincts. It is almost a shame. Almost, Will has to remind himself, because they are already hunted. Leaving a trail now would be stupid. He snorts softly at himself, feels Hannibals right hand link with his own left. He looks at him, his eyes in the dark of the alley glittering yet fathomless deep and feels the yearning to be as close as humanly possible again. It has never been far these passed few months, building this… relationship, the need for each other surpassing other needs for now. But now, that another kill is imminent, and rather happily anticipated, their opponent dangerous, it is even more intense, Wills spine tingling in anticipation and need. He feels the answering thrum from Hannibal and wonders however people could think he would not have emotions. 

The rest of the walk takes all of Wills concentration, his composure breaking as soon as they close the door behind them. He aggressively walks Hannibal down the hallway and into their bedroom, and pushes him onto his back on the bed, lower legs dangling over the edge, Hannibal smiling softly at him in the dark, only illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the shutters. Will steps between his legs, pushing them apart with his feet, while Hannibal lies there, waiting, watching him closely. Will takes his own shirt off slowly, sees Hannibals eyes darken, drops it to the floor. He kneels down on the bed between Hannibals knees, and lowers his head to his crotch, passing it by with millimeters to spare, tugging at the belt with his teeth, feeling Hannibal inhale tremblingly. Will takes and then places Hannibals hands next to his hips, indicating where he should leave them and Hannibal fists the blanket, watching with his head raised slightly, eyes black. Will braces himself next to his hips, draws the zipper down with his teeth, the metal uncomfortable between them, the heat under it almost scorching, the smell instantly arousing. He comes up open mouthed, silently panting and turns to Hannibals clothes, starting by parting his shirt button by button, trailing his fingers through every opened gap, finally pushing it apart. He drags his cheek through Hannibals chest hair, so different from his own and mouthes and licks at his nipples, alternating, until they are hard and Hannibal is breathing harshly. It’s always hard work to make him be actually loud, Will thinks and grins, biting at one nipple hard and then moving to his stomach, leaving sucking imprints, enjoying the gasp Hannibal cannot contain. He pushes the satin boxers and the pants down, careful not to touch too much, which earns him a slight groan. He kneels down on the floor and removes Hannibals socks and then proceeds to undress himself, the pants very uncomfortable by now, going slow for Hannibals sake.  
He crawls up and settles astride Hannibal on his stomach, reaches over just passed his head and grabs the small tube of lubricant on the nightstand, their mouths almost touching, before withdrawing a sighed moan escaping Wills mouth.  
Hannibal comes up after him, not able to reach his mouth and forgetting to keep his hands away and returns the favor to Wills nipples. Will softly moans into the feeling, Hannibals tongue scraping and pressing and he can feel his cock hardening more, leaking, his hips slowly and instinctually picking up movement. Hannibal moves his hands down to his hips, to his ass, just kneading and sucks hard on his left nipple and Will moans loudly before he forcefully pushes Hannibal back onto the bed. He raises up a bit and stays there, panting, dipping low with his upper body until he can kiss Hannibal open mouthed, tongues clashing, messy and intense. He uncaps the little bottle and pours some over his own right hand fingers, reaching back and feels Hannibals legs spreading and then his eyes open in surprise when the fingers go to Wills own entrance instead.  
He pushes in with one finger slowly, taking his time, breathing against Hannibals mouth. Hannibal hands come up his thighs, spread his cheeks, otherwise keeping still though, letting him lead. He changes to 2 quickly, making sure its wet, yet enjoying the burn, deciding this will do, wanting it to hurt a bit and drips more lubricant on Hannibals dick, eyes boring into his. He balances his left hand on Hannibals chest, and grabs Hannibals dick with his other, positioning himself, feels the head just push there. He deliberately forces himself down in one hard push, back arching up, panting, Hannibals hands on his hips bruising, the burn delicious, sweat tickling down his back, Hannibal a white-red heat inside him.  
He swivels his hips slowly, head back, eyes closed, hands both on Hannibals chest lightly for balance, just feeling for a moment. The tight quivers of the muscles in Hannibals body, fighting to keep still. The small room with its tiny window, the shutters drawn. The almost quietness of the night, the waves of the ocean just audible now that it’s so quiet. The sense of inevitability that this will be their last night here. The drag of Hannibals cock against his prostrate, not quite pushing at the right place yet, but with the promise of it nonetheless. He mewls when Hannibal shifts his hips, changing the angle slightly, deliberately and feels Hannibals breathless chuckle through his fingers on his chest. He rocks backward in retaliation, making them both moan, the drag breathtaking in intensity. And then he cannot stay still any longer, rocking for- and backwards in increasing little circles of his hips, Hannibal rolling his own with him, still holding onto his hips, never taking his eyes off Will.  
They are both wet with sweat when Will finally rises up and slams himself down, hard, the pain and pleasure so intense he cannot distinguish one from the other, sharp moans being forced out of his throat when he continues to repeat the motion. Hannibal groans beneath him, fingers twitching and Will opens his eyes to see him snarl and bares his own teeth in response, feeling antlers breach his skin, stretch and pierce through the bubble of reality they created all these months, bursting it, the shattered remains swallowed in the blackish red hue of Hannibals eyes.  
He drags his nails down Hannibals chest, breaking the skin, making him hiss, fiendishly grinning and brings one bloody finger up and suck on it, still fucking himself on Hannibal. Hannibal moans loudly, and then returns the grin, devious in intention and finally lets go of his hips, one hand moving down to grip Wills balls tight, drawing a hiss, the other moving up his shaft to the head, gathering the precome, bringing its to his mouth, licking it off with a relish. Will huffs a moaned laugh, losing his rhythm at last, slamming himself down, feels Hannibals hips snap up at the same time, the pleasure exploding behind Wills once more screwed-shut eyes, and he’s coming with an almost tortured shout, onto Hannibals chest and chin. Hannibal pulls him down viciously, Will still breathless, kissing him hard and then in one motion flips them, fucking Will through the remnants of his orgasm with hard but precisely executed thrusts, drawing it out until it’s painful and then some more, until he suddenly pulls up and out, making Will gasp harshly and moves up, taking his dick in hand, and comes on Wills face, expression fierce and intense, and Will moans at the feeling of being owned, basking in Hannibals possessiveness.

Will cannot even move his legs anymore, and Hannibal lets himself collapse on top of him, licking his own come from Wills face, Will moaning with the feeling of it, the state he is in suspiciously close to bliss, chuckling lightly and fiendishly glad he doesn’t have a beard anymore. He drags his arms up around Hannibals neck, keeping him near, ignoring and forcing Hannibal to ignore the drying mess on their skins between them, tilting his face, giving him better access. Hannibal settles some more on top of him, carefully caging and distributing his weight, and just -is- with him, both exhausted yet too wound up to sleep. Will licks his lips, his voice raw from their lovemaking and with emotion. 

„What will happen to the house?“

Hannibal pauses in his ministrations for a moment, then continues to speak in between licks.

„We will put accelerant in strategic places, making sure it burns down fast when we leave, but will inform the fire department before we kindle it, so the other houses will not be damaged too badly. Our neighbors have never been rude to us, I see no need to destroy their lives.“

Will hums, tightening his arms for a moment.

„How will we cross?“

Hannibal presses a kiss to the corner of his right eye, lips ghosting over his lashes. 

„From the other side. Eventually.“

Will grins at him, words exceedingly unnecessary to convey plans, their connection vibrating.


	5. Chapter 5

They spend the morning packing their favorite and practical for sea travel clothing, making sure the closets don’t look too emptied out, only having space for a small amount of their clothes on the ship anyway, fitting well into two large weekenders. Hannibal cooks in advance, shock freezing and vacuuming vegetables and fruits, while Will goes out and buys accelerant from 5 different shops, stacking it around the house. 

They set up the surveillance equipment in and around their house, sending the feed to the Macbook, connected to the internet by hotspot now. Hannibal insists on them wearing the flexible chest armor under their shirts ignoring Wills complaints and stopping it with the comment, that this will most likely not be a knife fight.

They are on their way back from the Churchill, the weekenders and fresh food stored and secured in the front bow when the text comes, Hannibal relaying the information to Will. 

„He just left the city hall, apparently he has inquired for newly connected houses in the last half year and will now cross reference these with the boat sales. He will come for us tonight if he is any good.“

Will raises his face to the early afternoon sun, feels the wind play with his hair.

„I’ll go and get my hair cut. We will stay awhile at sea after all, and it’s rather long already. Or do you have any hidden barber talents I don’t know of yet as well?“

Hannibal smiles at him softly, a hand pushing the hair from his forehead.

„Do not cut it too short, please.“

__________________

 

Will returns an hour later, his hunt for a barber shop successful right the next street, the cut reminiscent of the hair cut he got after he left prison all those years back. Hannibal comes to him, pushing at the stray lock of hair that just doesn’t want to stay in place.

„I wanted to push it back in place even then.“

Will grins, somewhat melancholy.

„If only you had… wonder what different path the game would have taken.“

„I imagine not that differently. You knew about my feelings, even though you did not let yourself acknowledge them until much later. You very consciously tried to seduce me into believing you by look, manners and behavior. Acknowledging my feelings would have only given you more leverage. And would have increased the fallout. So in the end, it probably was good that I did indeed not do so.“

Will swallows, and turns away a bit, looking out over the terrace.

„I…. I wanted to run away with you, then, though I didn’t know yet myself, you know that, right?“

Hannibal comes up behind him, encloses him in his arms.

„I do now. If I may repeat myself - fate and circumstance have brought us to this moment. I cannot turn back time, bring shattered teacups back together. But I also cannot bring myself to regret this reality, now, not anymore.“

Will sighs, dropping his head back onto Hannibals shoulder.

„I can’t either. Not anymore. There are times I feel desperately guilty about that…“

Hannibal tightens his arms, quietly holding him.

„She will not be forgotten. In the end, she died for us, for this. Her sacrifice will not be in vain.“

_____________________

 

They spend the afternoon and evening reading and eating, barbecuing and relaxing, Will being surprised it doesn’t take more of an effort to put on this little show. He accepts a glass of fruit wine from Hannibal, settles on the bench next to him, puts his feet up, kicking off his shoes, following Hannibals example.

Hannibal is supposedly browsing through news sites and the light conversation they keep going reflects that, the Macbook angled carefully so its screen cannot be seen from afar or the windows reflection. The tracking software has alerted them of movement at the front door, then the car, then… nothing. Will takes another sip and squints at the low sun, its last rays basking them in orange red hues. Hannibal inhales and closes the screen, downing the last sip and smiles at Will, who follows suit emptying his own glass.  
He smiles at Hannibal and stands, holding out his hand.

„Would you like to take this inside?“

Hannibal puts the Macbook aside after executing a little program that does a total erase and then takes his hand and kisses him deeply once, pushing him against the door, walking him backwards, the following kiss light despite its appearance. He turns his head to Wills neck, inhales and then taps him on his left thigh, twice. 

Will drops to his knees, takes the heavy gun with the silencer from under the couch and fires several times through the wall left of him at approximately two feet high without hesitation. Hannibal is a shadow leaping through the room, the glint of a garrote flashing, turning the corner only moments after. The grunt of a collision sounds, and electric zinging sound and then the click of a grenade and Will is frantic suddenly, unease settling, leaping across the room, the tear gas stinging in his eyes, taking his sight. He holds a corner of his shirt against mouth and nose, trying desperately to hear over his pulse thundering in his ears. There is a heavy thud and then nothing, except his tortured breathing and he realizes that Hannibal must be out for the count. What a fucking joke. The world goes red and then black in his vision, and he quietly puts down the gun, reaching for the big folding knife in his pocket, blinking rapidly, breathing open mouthed. 

Will draws back, on the other side of the bullet riddled wall now, straining to hear. There is minute shifting somewhere and Will wishes fervently for Hannibals abilities. Well, it cannot be helped now. He lowers himself to the ground, using the knife as a mirror, slowly angling it around the corner, trying to see through the tears in his eyes. 

The first thing he sees is the garrote, lying next to a thin net, spreading across the whole floor. The next shadow that comes into view are Hannibals feet - the soles of the socks burned, the net obviously electrified, static zinging in the air. Hannibal is not moving. Will snarls quietly, a deadly fury settling, white hot cold determination zinging through his bones. He angles the knife further and sees the sliver of light from their bedroom window, reflected on a small puddle of liquid on the floor. So he managed to hit something after all. He cannot find any other sign of their attacker though, no matter how much he angles the knife.

Will pulls the knife back, and considers. No shoes for him either, so not following down the hall yet. No way to check up on Hannibal either. There is nothing to hide in the bedroom, the closets too small, and besides, the door is open wide, the space behind the door not big enough for a person with equipment. The kitchen is across the hallway, unreachable from the other side of the net. So. The bathroom. It has a normal width window and a very small skylight. Wills eyes fall on the empty bottles of wine, stashed to be brought to the recycling station and smiles grimly, the motion not reaching his eyes.

He prepares his attack feverishly yet slowly, as quietly as possibly, pausing intermittently to listen for movement. From time to time he thinks he can hear a whisper of clothes, but it’s so faint he cannot pinpoint it. He takes two bottles, careful not to clink them together and edges around the room, back out to the terrace, glad to be out in the fresh air again, his eyes puffy and red and hurting. It’s dark now, the stars are out in a beautiful clear night and he levers himself up to the roof via their bench and table without much difficulty. The bricks are loose and Will inches his way forward carefully, very much aware he mustn’t fuck this up. ‚Or else‘ - the thought pounding in his head. 

When he sees the little skylight he crouches at the side of the roof, directly above the bathroom window, and quietly releases a breath. He grabs the bottles, prepared with cut off parts of his t-shirt and lights the improvised molotov cocktail made from their bought accelerant with a lighter he took from the barbecue grill. He hurls both bottles down through the skylight in quick succession, the little glass shattering, a shout sounding when the first bottle shatters on the floor, the small room going up in flames. The second bottle is aimed towards the door, the entrance erupting in flames as well. There is a curse and then a crash, their attacker hurling himself out through the bathroom window, clothes burning and Will smiles with feral satisfaction, the knife glinting in the cold air. He tracks the movement below and jumps.


	6. Chapter 6

It’s a well timed jump and Will crashes onto the mans back, the impact sending them both to the ground, the mans hands scrambling for purchase. Will holds tight onto the mans backpack, feet going around the hips, his left foot meeting a wet patch and he pushes his foot in, making the man groan. He angles the knife up under the backpack, eyes trained on the night vision goggles equipped head. Well that doesn’t help now, does it. He pushes the knife in, twisting it until he hears a sickening crunch and the man under him lets out a strangled cry, going totally limp. Will pulls himself to his knees, panting, and traces the wound with his left hand. Well, the Dragon would have been proud. 

He checks the pulse for a moment, and pulls the goggles off, grabbing the mans chin to look into his eyes. The brown eyes are blown, frantic, small movement betraying consciousness. The man tries to utter words, but only manages moans. Will hits him square into his temple, rendering him unconscious, the pain in his fist a small satisfaction for the seething beast within. He pulls himself up, snarling, running inside, skidding to a halt in the hallway.  
The fire in the bathroom has reached the hallway, only 2 feet from Hannibals unmoving form, still on the net. Will runs to the main entrance and pulls the master switch, hopefully removing electricity from whatever socket that net is connected to. He throws one of their shoes at the net, not triggering any reaction and finally dares to reach for Hannibal, dragging him towards the front door, collapsing there for a moment, too terrified to feel for a pulse. His fingers are shaking but he makes himself press them to Hannibals throat after a moment and he gasps, tears again in his eyes when he feels it there, weak, but there.  
He checks the fires progress and pulls on some slippers, grabs the car keys and darts outside, pulling the car up to the entrance, opening the trunk and backseat. He pulls Hannibal onto the backseat, panting, covered in sweat now and light headed, looking back into the house, the fire rapidly spreading. He furiously clenches his teeth, the option to leave their attacker there not manageable for him right now, despite the danger. He rushes through their house, the previously in his molotov-cocktail-making spilt accelerant kicking up the flames, reaching for the stashed accelerant and Will drops to his knees on the terrace and hoists the man up in a fireman grip, breath rasping in the raising smoke. He throws him in the trunk with some difficulty, stumbling to the front seat and starts the engine, the glow of the fire bathing the scene in orange heat, neighbors waking up and yelling in their homes, running out. He speeds down towards the marina and calls the fire department, dropping his accent for once, disconnecting the call after spitting out their address. He doesn’t dare to look back, situation gone much too awry for liking.

____________________

 

He drives right down through the little gate, denting it beyond repair and onto the landing stage, just wide enough and groaning under the cars weight, right up to their boat, knowing he leaves a trail like nothing good but also knowing he won’t be able to drag Hannibal the distance from the parking lot.  
He stops next to the Churchill, the landing stage tilting by degrees, and pops the trunk, pulling the man out by the arms, not caring for possible injury and drags him over the edge of the landing stage, dropping him unceremoniously into their boat. He skids around to Hannibal, climbs over him, checking his eyelids, relieved beyond measure when he hears him groan. Perfect timing, the goddamn bastard.  
He lightly hits him on his cheeks, feeling the car tilt the landing stage more, frantic now, shaking Hannibals shoulders. Hannibal opens his eyes dizzily and Will seethes a „finally“ at him, pulling him up and out the car, Hannibals movements uncoordinated but taking some of the weight at least. He carefully settles him into the boat on a seat in front and jumps back up to wipe at least some of their fingerprints away with his torn off shirt, the car hopefully but probably not long enough in the water to destroy all evidence. He gives up when the landing stage gives a pitiful groan, and jumps over the side down into the boat and throws the harness lines, pushing them off. He chances a look at Hannibal, who looks at him with a weird light in his eyes and starts the engine, shaking his head once, breath still a panting mess, vision frantically narrowed on their escape route.  
He pushes the Churchill straight into max gear, not caring for the speed regulations, and when he turns he hears the massive splash, the car going over and taking a small boat with it, the landing stage righting itself again after a moment, the evidence of them swallowed by the water, the wind rushing by as loud as the distant sirens.

_____________________

The trip to the other marina takes more than 50 minutes, even at top speed and Will is exhausted by the time it comes into view, only slowing down then, fervently thanking non existing gods of fate not to have met or seen anybody on radar. He hasn’t dared to look at Hannibal or their… prisoner the whole trip, more than a little shaken by their encounter, and just an unsettled kind of glad to be there and hear Hannibal breathe next to him. He takes off the kevlar armor and throws on a shirt from their stash and a blanket over their prisoner and slowly steers the Churchill into the marina as nonchalantly as possible, not worrying too much due to the late hour, the only people he sees some very drunk juveniles, partying on Daddys boat.  
They stop next to the Demeter, Will securing the lines, and only then he turns and looks at Hannibal, looking him over, inspecting Hannibals feet for a moment, not quite meeting his eyes. Hannibal let’s him, taking his hand when offered and stumbling aboard wordlessly, stopping at the little landing, leaning his weight on the aft section, turning towards their prisoner. Will wraps the limp man in the blanket and then secures the bumpy package with a line, and together they pull him aboard, Will shaking by the end but refusing Hannibals help to get the rest of their stuff from the front bow compartment anyway. Hannibal gaze is like a lead weight on him when he tosses the weekenders in the second cabin, places the food in the kitchen and the second fridge they installed instead of the second bathroom.  
He stumbles and almost falls on the three steps up to the main cabin room and Hannibal rushes over and catches him, wincing and lowering them to their knees and Wills head drops to Hannibals shoulder of it’s own volition, breath short and quick, increasing to dry sobs for a moment before he pulls himself up, arms pushing against Hannibal, the beast inside snarling to move, teeth bared, and staggers over to the Churchill. He touches it for a moment, crushed under the weight of the knowledge of one more step for an instant, before going down and rigging it to sink, watching almost impassively when it disappears in a gurgling swirl next to the Demeter. 

He stands on the aft deck for a moment, feeling nothing and everything, and then turns to Hannibal with a slight tilt of his head.

„Are you well enough to go through the checklists for food and water once more?“

Hannibal nods wordlessly, eyes black, and pushes to his feet, the burns on his soles rupturing and leaving bloody footprints on the carpet, not caring for them now. Well, it would be unnecessary to care, there will likely be more blood on it soon enough.  
Will chances a look at their prisoner, still trussed up like a turkey, and goes up to the flybridge, checking the boats systems, batteries and at last their course, going through it systematically. It’s beyond midnight now and the party a few boats down is still going strong and he intends to use the noise to make a hopefully quiet exit. He drops down from the flybridge, and checks with Hannibal, who just returns from their second cabin, stopping in the little kitchenette when he sees him. He nods and Will exhales, inclining his head and turns around. He puts a thick jacket on and takes an energy drink from a stash in the aft storage, the sugar quieting his shaking hands a bit.  
He throws out the harness lines and pushes the Demeter with as much strength he can muster from the landing stage, letting her drift slowly from the stage, having rented the outmost mooring for this exact purpose.  
Their exit goes unnoticed, the engines roar no louder than a cars when he finally dares to turn them on.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware: *blink and they're gone* Dexter spoilers :)

They head southeast near the coast, intent on coast hopping down to south Italy, keeping as close as they need to and as far away as the possibly can.  
It is almost 4 am when Will feels save enough to drop anchor, safely out of any shipping route, and goes down to the cabin, emotions still a rollercoaster.  
Their prisoner is gone from the room, a biting smell he cannot place permeating it, Hannibal is sitting on the coach, feet wrapped and re-socked, drinking a glass of wine and reading a book, only the bloody footprints betraying the image of domestic bliss. Will wants to slap the book from his hands and shatter the glass on his head.

Hannibal inhales slowly and closes the book, carefully puts the wine away in a secure place and stands up, only his slow movements betraying the pain he must be in to walk. Or maybe he drugged himself, Will not doubting they are well equipped for almost any kind of emergency. He waits.  
Will keeps his eyes on Hannibals collarbone, just visible under the shirts opened top button, not able to put his feelings into words. But then Hannibal always seems to know anyway. His hands clench to fists. 

Hannibal stops right in front of him, his right hand coming up to trace the still swollen rings under his eyes, then up into his hair, the other slowly lowering the zipper on his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. Will bares his teeth, the movement unconscious and base and Hannibal suddenly forces his head up, finally meeting his gaze, whispering harshly.

„You are magnificent in your darkness. Let it reign.“

Wills hands shoot up, slapping his hands away and grabbing Hannibals head, devouring his mouth, more biting than kissing, instantly bloody, crushing. It’s only a taste however before he pushes Hannibal away and forcefully turns him, bending him down over the table, ripping his pants down, hearing them tear. He fumbles with his own pants and underwear, almost delirious now, pushing at Hannibals neck with one hand while bruisingly holding onto his hip with is other, lining up without care. He forces himself in, the heat crushing and oh so tight, and realizes with a start that Hannibal must have prepared himself, the passage just prepared and wet enough and he barks a laugh, uncaringly powering into Hannibal now, taking what is his. He comes after only a handful of thrusts, the blinding orgasm taking the fearful fury away with it, collapsing onto Hannibal, the little table groaning under their combined weight. Hannibal reaches back and entwines their fingers, panting and still painfully aroused but not doing anything about it. He smiles a soft smile that makes Wills insides clench painfully.

„I love you, Will.“

Wills tears trickle down Hannibals throat, staining the book.

_________________

It is quite some time later that they find themselves able to relocate to the main cabin with its double bed, Hannibal shushing him when Will tries to jerk him off, shaking his head. He spoons behind Will, erection poking his hip, clothes uncomfortable but both way too exhausted to get undressed and showered now. 

Will wakes to Hannibals breath puffing at his face, something he absolutely hated with other lovers. Right now he would give his right arm to wake up every morning with the evidence of Hannibal being alive right in his face. Or again against his hip for that matter. Will smiles a crooked smile, relishing the moment with the soft movement of the waves lulling him back into a light doze. He sleepily pushes his hands under Hannibals shirt and traces the mess of scars on Hannibals back until he feels him arch under his hands. He starts to undress Hannibal slowly, taking his time now, still exhausted, feeling Hannibal start to do the same and this time they just glide and rock together, the shared awareness of being alive heightening the experience, orgasms almost an afterthought. He grins at Hannibal afterwards.

„Now we really need to take that shower.“

Hannibal nuzzles steadily at his jaw.

„Indeed.“

Will draws back and up and yawns, opting to go first, the little bathroom not really but just maybe big enough for the two of them. If they squeeze real tight.  
He showers leisurely, coming back still toweling off, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Hannibal inspect his feet.

„So, you cleaned up a bit yesterday night? Is he still alive?“

„I set him up to the necessary medical equipment and dressed his wound. He should be. I would not dream of starting this without you, my magnificent boy.“

Will looks at him for a moment and runs his tongue along his teeth, flashing a smile.

„What’s for breakfast?“

______________________

They travel down the coast passed Monaco after the simple yet delicious eggs-and-bread breakfast, noon too hot for the flybridge and Will anchors and then spends an hour looking at the second cabins closed door with ice water in his hand, Hannibal watching him quietly, not interfering. 

He finally puts the glass away and opens the door, jaw dropping at the sight, turning to Hannibal, pointing wordlessly, raising his eyebrows almost to the hairline. 

„What the hell??“

Hannibal saunters over nonchalantly, quite pleased with himself of course.

„You mentioned this Dexter. And although I was not familiar with the name, I took the liberty of looking it up and stashing some of the more necessary items on the boat. I have to admit, I found it quite amusing though somewhat uninspired, the design not evolving. And of course I would never become a wood worker. Yet, I thought it would be quite… apt…. for this.“

Will glances at the man held by plastic wrap, the whole cabin wrapped in plastic foil, and then back at Hannibal, standing next to him, smirking. He shakes his head, chuckling.

„Well, at least you were busy as well.“

Hannibal raises an eyebrow at him with a sly impression. Will clears his throat.

„Yeah, that was probably good thinking as well.“

Hannibal purses his lips, tilting his head, eyes twinkling. 

„The wrapping holding him is only for effect. You did a formidable job disabling him. He does not feel below his sternum, though his arms appear to be paralyzed as well. He regained his ability to speak after a while so I put a gag into his mouth. He should be awake.“

Will looks at their prisoner, and the fitted room then back at Hannibal, reaching for the emotions he felt in the house they lived in for the last few months. He smiles cruelly, the skin at his neck pricking.

„Would you mind passing me a knife, dear? It should probably be sharp:“

Hannibal smiles an impossible warm smile, impossibly ill fitting yet humbling genuine and offers him a scalpel.


	8. Chapter 8

When the sun touches the horizon Will is exhausted and he has to admit that their little secondary cabin does indeed look like ‚little‘ Dexters container. Only the chainsaw missing. The man on the bed gave up screaming through the gag a while ago, probably for good, Hannibal directing Will through the cuts, supplementing their resources, not bothering to ask questions.   
Will feels empty, the white hot rage he felt at the house gone and refusing to be rekindled, drowned in blood, yet the hatred so putrid he refused to relinquish the scalpel even as Hannibal offered.

Will sits down on one covered bed with a thud, dropping the scalpel.  
He raises his fingers, and pushes them into one of the wounds, grounding himself, feeling the flesh part under his fingertips. He drags his bloody hand over his face, inhaling the scent and then pushes himself up, toeing off his shoes as he leaves the cabin and comes up behind Hannibal, who is humming to himself, preparing dinner. 

„Why didn’t Chiyo shoot this idiot before he came to us?“

Hannibal keeps on stirring some kind of sauce, face betraying exactly nothing.

„I told her not to. I thought that this would be a… pleasant bonding experience for us.“

„A… bonding experience???“

Hannibal chances a look at him at the tone and licks his lips for a moment, considering.

„I had not anticipated something like this. If I had I would have gone about it differently.“

Will huffs an unbelieving laugh.

„You had not anticipated. Are you fucking kidding me? This is not a game anymore, Hannibal!“

When Hannibal doesn’t answer he pulls him back from the stove by the arm, not caring for spilled sauce or bloody fingerprints, voice harsh and fierce, a scalding whisper, eyes flashing.

„This is our LIFE. The next time we are hunted you will relay and access all resources so we will be able to play our cards right. Or, so help me god, I’ll fucking kill your obnoxious ass myself.“

Hannibal freezes in his grip, eyes fathomless, a reptile like stillness preceding a minute nod.

____________________

 

Dinner is a quiet affair, Will still seething his way through his emotions, only having cleaned himself up perfunctory. He cannot help but admit that it is delicious though, the thought almost without guilt, the meat perfection. Hannibal raises afterwards, carrying the dishes to the sink and turns to him, including the cabin behind him with a little sweep of his arm.

„I will clean up. Do you wish to travel some more?“

Will nods, getting up but stopping at the door. 

„Call me when you’re done cleaning? I… want to be there.“

„Of course.“

Will inhales and climbs the ladder back up to the flybridge.

____________________

 

Will has to admit, Hannibal did an admirably job when he calls him back down close to midnight. 

All the stains and foil have gone, the carpet in their living room bleached clean, the parcel at the aft section wrapped and almost unrecognizable. Will looks at the backpack next to it and then quizzically at Hannibal.

„Do you want to destroy it?“

„There are very few items of possible use to us I am afraid. I did destroy all the electronic equipment by putting it into the microwave as soon as we left Marseille. There was no way of knowing if it could be used to track us down. The knifes are of a good quality, I have put them into our storage. He did have two guns, but we do not know where they have been used and I would rather not take the risk. I have filled some bottles with sea water to weigh him down, the destroyed electronic equipment should help. He did not carry identification, unsurprising really, and very little cash. And we already took what we wanted to from his body.“

Will nods slowly, then looks at Hannibal, a shadowed silhouette against the light from their little living room. He opens the little door to the aft landing, and steps out onto it, taking the backpack with him and dropping it uncaringly into the black water, stepping aside when Hannibal pushes the remains through the door and over the edge. It floats for a moment, air bubbling up, then sinks slowly, a pale shadow in the fathomless deep. Will looks down after it, the pull to follow very strong and then feels a hand on his neck and looks up, the pull of those eyes irresistible. He follows them back aboard.

__________________

 

The trip down to Sicily takes roughly two weeks, with stops at medium size marinas to refuel, only one of them leaving the ship at a time and big ones to go for groceries, hiding behind huge cruising ships, mingling with the tourists. Hannibal sits close to him on the flybridge while traveling, looking longingly at the illuminated coast as they pass by, knowing full well that Italy is off limits. At least for a while. Will scratches his once more stubbled jaw when they pass Florence, chancing a look at Hannibal. 

„We can’t, I’m sure you know that.“

Hannibal sighs almost noiselessly.

„I am aware. I made sure to engrave the details in my memory place on the last visit however, anticipating a situation like this.“

„We have… shared rooms there before…. or at least it felt that way.“

„We have. I have discovered you there, as you are undoubtedly aware.“

Hannibal looks at him, traces his jaw with his left hand fingers.

„Would you like to come with me, into the foyer?“

Will turns his head into the caress, stilling the engine. He leans over, kissing Hannibal softly, strands of music and colored light starting to fill his mind, and the vision comes to life, their connection vibrating, mirroring each other.


	9. Chapter 9

They hit a batch of bad weather then, stranding them at a very small island for a few days, the boats movements making Hannibal green around the gills and Will snicker. Will decides to cross over to the other side through the passage of Messina, using the dead of night and continuing towards Leuca right away. 

They travel mostly by night now, the sight of an anchoring boat in the sun way more unsuspicious during the holiday season. The crossing to Corfu is equally uneventful, and Will has to admit that navigating down towards and through all the greek islands is challenging and fun. He is rather glad Hannibal speaks greek, because of course he does, and just tags along on the few times they go on land, Hannibal visibly perking up, getting them new burner phones and another Macbook on one of the visits. 

They cross to Crete via the smaller islands in between, trying to refuel as few times as possible and then over to Turkey, mapping out the mediterranean sea, coast hopping again. By the time they reach Israel via Cypress, their food runs so low that Hannibal insists on entering the marina in Tel Aviv, Hannibal gazing longingly at the Hilton in the distance but smirking self deprecatingly when Will teases him about it. They stay there a few days, stretching their legs in long walks, wondering at the european feel of the city, keeping off the sightseeing tracks but going to markets for fresh produce and having some of the best humus Will has ever eaten. 

It’s like a late summer holiday, the desert wind chafing their skin, Wills skin deeply tanned, showing off the laugh lines that continue to emerge. They continue to Port Said, and enter the Sues canal at the beginning of September. 

It is shortly after entering the canal that Hannibal broaches the subject of the Demeter, head back on the headrest next to Will on the flybridge, eyes unfocused on the stars fingers toying his phone.

„You are aware, that we cannot continue to stay on this boat forever. And, as that little bad weather batch has shown, I may not be best equipped to sail over, as much as this may pain me to admit.“

Will snorts, gleefully remembering. At last something that Hannibal is not perfect in. Hannibal loftily ignores him.

„I would like to enter a marina in El Arash, and sell our boat there. I have contacts there who will make sure there are no questions asked. And I can organize for a private plane to take us to Dubai where we will stay for a night and then take a flight to Japan.“

Will purses his lips, examining his feelings on the matter. To be honest, he -has- expected this for some time now, Hannibal much more cosmopolitan and way less sailor than himself, the journey so far nonetheless taken without any complaint. He tilts his head until he can reach Hannibals cheek, softly nosing at the soft skin near his eyes. 

„Very well. But I get the bathtub first.“

Hannibal hums, his expression vaguely unhappy.

„One of the reasons I do not wish to dwell in Dubai is the current political and social climate. I am afraid we will have to stay in separate hotel rooms and I do not wish to sleep apart from you more than absolutely necessary.“

Will turns his head with a grimace, conceding the point, suddenly not looking forward to that bathtub after all.

_____________________

 

Hannibal greets his contact in the traditional way, totally ignoring Will from the moment they step off the boat, the behavior discussed beforehand yet still unsettling him deeply. They drive straight to the airport with their few bags of possession, Hannibal assuring him that Chiyo will make sure their demands are met and the Demeter gone, dismantled or sold within a day.

The flight to Dubai is short and Will feels utterly underdressed and dirty when they exit the cab at their hotel, which Hannibal tells him is middle class but still feels like arabic-lit Las Vegas style. Slightly more tasteful. And without the hostesses and strippers. 

He stands in his room like a ghost for a moment, air conditioning too cold, situation too unreal, unsuccessfully checking for a connecting door for the third time. He takes that bath after a while, soaking until he’s wrinkled and then orders the worst-by-Hannibal-standards food he can find on the menu, having agreed to stay apart for this night. The food is good, but Will desperately misses Hannibal like a phantom limb, the taste ashen in his mouth. He lies awake in the huge bed, his mind a white noise once more, staring at the wall until exhaustion claims him, too unsettled by his own emotional imbalance to find Hannibal in their mind palace.

_____________________

 

They board the flight to Tokyo the afternoon of the next day, the suitcase with the special item and weapons declared as diplomatic luggage, Will not asking questions, their passports accepted without problems even though he sports a beard again now, only happy to be near Hannibal again, though they do not sit next to each other. But at least they got business class. The flight takes almost 10 hours, Will passing the time getting slightly drunk on free whiskey and watching stupid movies. At one point he feels a prickle on his neck and turns his head, watching Hannibal pass by, and smiles warmly at nothing, Hannibal going by without an apparent glance. 

Hannibal lightly steers him by his elbow when they depart the plane, ushering him to a cab and rattling off an address to the driver, the japanese a foreign but beautiful cadence. Will chances a curious look at him. 

„I thought that maybe you would like to stay in Japan for a while? After all, you do have some family here, don’t you?“

„You are not mistaken. However, I believe that is one of the reasons they would keep an eye on Japan. Chiyo informed me, that, though they do not currently know where we are, Jack Crawford has been traveling to places we have stayed before or have connections to. Apparently he was quite close when we passed Italy, as well.“

Will raises his eyebrows, examining his jumbled feelings on the matter, seeing the colorful world rush by unfocused. Hannibal takes his right hand, squeezing lightly.

„I would like to catch the cruise ship to Honolulu. If you’re amendable to another week at sea?“

Will snorts, looking at him mischievously. 

„Well, are you? That will be much smaller than that cargo ship? Though bigger than ours…“

Hannibal gives him the Hannibal-version-of-a-skunk-eye though a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He nonetheless has the driver stop at a pharmacy and gets himself something against sea sickness, just in case, the whole thing more endearing to Will than all the gifts in the world.


	10. Chapter 10

They reach the ship with minutes to spare, the instructions rushed, no question asked in the hustling mass of people, the tactic once more successful, Hannibal looking very pleased with himself. The cabin they get is a small inner one again, unsuspicious but clean this time.  
They spend the week grooming their appearance a bit, relaxing in the quiet before the storm, nerves tingling more with the impeding re-entrance to the U.S. with each passing day. Wills neck is a mess once more on the last day, Hannibal pulling him close after packing, back against chest and humming quietly. Will holds on to the encircling arms, trying to ground himself, eyes closed.

„How on earth are we going to be able to actually set one foot on land? They must be looking for us coming in like this?“

Hannibal noses through his hair, a steady presence at his back.

„You overestimate their endurance. By now other problems have taken our spot of fame. It has been almost a year, Will, a whole year without any reliable evidence, filled with sightings of our doppelgangers elsewhere. Marseille left no conclusive evidence. Our scars have healed, our appearance changed. They expect us to cross from the other side… This ship will dock in approximately 5 hours, at 2 a.m. and we will depart right away, and a not inconsiderable amount has been transferred to ensure that immigration will be done by a certain officer who will be very tired and very comfortably rich after tomorrow night.“

He turns Will around, lightly kissing him, the touch sparking low, hands steadying on his shoulders, Wills own going to Hannibals chest.

„But I agree, there are risks. Let us make the most of the time that is given to us.“

Will raises his head, receiving the next kiss more comfortably, sighing into the soft touch.

„Take my mind away?“

Hannibal chuckles lightly, an undertone resonating, red eyes rapidly going black.

„You would have to trust me completely if I were to succeed to empty your beautiful mind.“

Will draws back, equal parts amused and excited, licking his lips.

„The fact that you have to ask after all we have already done makes me somewhat … nervous… to be honest…. Do I need a safe word?“

Hannibal nips lightly at his upper lip, teeth flashing and scraping, their scarred imprints on Wills neck white-hot at the feeling.

„No. If we do this you will take what I do to you, endure willingly or not at all.“

Will swallows, fingers tightening for an instant. Hannibal mouth travels to his left ear, voice a hot grinding whisper.

„There will be no blood play or permanent scarring, I promise. Not this time.“

Wills insides clench painfully, the answer obvious.

„Please.“

Hannibal bites lightly at his earlobe in response, the feeling making Will moan breathlessly. Hannibal traces his hands down Wills arms to his hands, entwining them, walking Will backwards to the little double bed. He pushes Will onto it on his back, crawling over him, raising his own arms and Wills with them over Wills head, softly pushing, whispering. 

„Close your eyes. Stay.“

Will swallows again and obeys, feels Hannibal get up and rummage around in their luggage, placing things next to them on the bed.  
A tie is placed between his hands, ends loosely slung around his palms.

„Are you going to tie me down?“

„No. You will hold on to it, hands above your head until I take it from you.“

It’s an order and a statement, Will feeling lightheaded already, panting slightly, fingers reflexively tightening on the soft fabric. 

„I wasn’t aware we had ties…“

He hears Hannibal chuckle softly.

„There have been no formal events for a while now. Still, we do not know when we will need one, so I got several while still in Marseille. They will be do nicely for this as well.“

There is a whisper of fabric and movement on the bed over him and then another tie is placed over his eyes, this one tied loosely around his head. There is no spit to swallow anymore. He moans loudly, already so hard. Hannibal places a finger on his lips.

„Shhh… We must not alert anyone tonight or cause any disruption. Which is somewhat contrasting to what I want to do with and to you. Therefore you will need this as well.“

With that Hannibal lightly taps on Wills chin and pushes a rolled up tie between his teeth. Wills gasps are stilted now, oxygen hard to come by, leaking in his pants. He feels Hannibals fingers ghost over his body, lightly touching the spreading wet spot, and hears the sucking sound, moans again, the sound dull behind the makeshift gag.

The mattress shifts when Hannibal stands up, beginning to undress him, taking his time, only pushing his shirt off his chest, lightly toying with his nipples in the process. The cool air doesn’t help with his arousal, helplessly twitching against his stomach. Hannibal pushes his knees apart, kneeling between them and then that mouth is hot and scalding on him, sucking him right down, making him arch and shout, intense and intent. There is nothing Will can do to stop it, his orgasm crashing through him in a helpless flash. He moans against the gag, faintly disappointed, relaxing his grip on the tie minutely. Hannibal slaps his hip, voice a deep rumble.

„You will hold on until I am done with you. We have only started.“

Will gasps, swallowing painfully, spit soaking the tie in his mouth, and tightens his fingers again. He feels the mattress shift again and then Hannibal is licking his skin everywhere he can reach, sucking the soft skin in his armpit, licking his nipples, bruising around the smile on his stomach. The bites on his thighs have him arching again, teethmarks felt and appreciated, the sucking on his toes have him squirming in disbelieving arousal. He misses the noise of the little bottle and starts with a shout when Hannibal shoves two fingers up into him without a warning, moaning with him. Hannibal settles next to him, still fully dressed and starts to fuck him with them, just short of painful, the burn so good Hannibal has to remind him to breathe. He does so torturously, feeling Hannibal add another finger as soon as it gets easier, intensifying the burn again, moaning brokenly, tears running freely.  
Hannibal starts to lick at his lips around the gag, the soft lapping a stark counterpoint to the almost brutal handling of him, making Will sob and tilt his head and hips for more. Hannibal keeps going until Will is sobbing openly, goosebumps all over, balls tight, leaking again and he groans against Wills face, and turns his fingers up, making Will shout with the first touch to his prostrate, almost there again. Suddenly Hannibal is gone, his fingers as well, and Will hears a slight ripping sound and suddenly there is pressure around the base of his dick, and then the feeling of something being tied around him, taking the edge off, the feeling painfully pleasant and restricting. Will shakes his head, groaning but doesn’t object. He spreads his thighs wide when Hannibal settles next to him again, turns his wet face to him, silently begging for his touch. Hannibal groans at and with him.

„If you could see yourself, my vicious boy…“

Will mewls, raising his knees and Hannibal takes pity on him, pushing his fingers back in, rubbing against and around his prostrate, making Will see stars, arching his neck. Hannibal breath is hot against the shell of his ear.

„You will not be able to properly come like this. But I will be able to milk you dry. Let go for me.“

Will sobs again, giving himself over to the feeling, arms relaxing a bit but still holding fast, feeling the pressure rise, expertly triggered, leaking constantly now, sweating, heart a staccato techno beat, played to perfection by Hannibal. He feels the pressure building even more, the feeling almost foreign, release not happening, but yet… yet he moans brokenly around the gag, breaths almost screaming in short bursts, the feeling going on and on until he is shaking all over, wanting it to stop and not wanting it to end at the same time. He feels the moisture trail down his stomach, hears Hannibal pant into his ear, still mouthing around his face, the fingers inside him merciless in their attention.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, only aware of his own tortured breaths now, Hannibal taking him apart, with each twist of his fingers. He swallows painfully, his eyelids fluttering, the thought that the couldn’t keep if eyes open if he tried even without the blindfold crossing his mind. Hannibal thumb is pushing at his perineum now, slowly withdrawing his fingers and Will valiantly tries to clench his teeth on the feeling, arching up and falling back to the bed when Hannibal retreats, standing up from the bed in one fluid motion. 

Will hears the rustle of clothes, and his whole body quivers with the knowledge of what is to come, hears Hannibals breathless chuckle. He doesn’t have the strength anymore to raise his legs or his hips and Hannibal just pushes them onto his shoulders and bends him in half, spreading him wide, settling over him. He pulls the blindfold off of Wills eyes in a fluid motion, takes the sodden gag out of his mouth slowly, his pupils as blown as Wills own, mouth opened in a hungry, almost snarling expression. Will mewls deep in his throat, tongue working desperately, eyebrow raising, words a breathless and mindless frantic whisper.

„No no no… I… I can’t…“

Hannibal shushes him, lips close to his, hands clamping tightly onto his thighs, lining up, voice letting the beast shine through.

„I will eat your screams.“

And he does. Hannibal mouth closes over his mouth wide, tongue opening his lips, pushing in at the same time, the sound erupting from Wills throat only vaguely human. Hannibal starts a brutal rhythm, Will so ready for this and yet so unprepared, his mind holding on by a thread, almost meditative in the pounding. The thread ruptures when he feels Hannibal move his hand from his left knee to his pulsing dick, tugging, releasing the improvised cock ring, the triggered release instant and painful. His whole body seizes, his orgasm dry but oh so powerful, Hannibal fucking him through it viciously, panting hard, the feeling of him climaxing against Wills tortured prostrate the final push and he blacks out into merciful unconsciousness.


	11. Chapter 11

He comes back to consciousness lying on his side on the bed, hands closer to his face now, still wrapped in the tie, eyes bloodshot and puffy, gasping an unbelieving moan when he feels Hannibals fingers glide over his thighs, his skin oversensitive and electrified still, jerking against the light touch. Hannibal breathes an almost moan at him, inhaling deeply, the air used up and reeking with messy sex, spooning up behind him, pulling him in. There is a pause while Will tries to get his bearings, thoughts and movements sluggish, dreamlike and spent. Hannibal mouthes the scar on his neck, pressing his teeth to the silver like indents, his voice soft and almost kind. 

„Any thoughts?“

Will tries to translate this into meaning and fails.

„Huh?“

Hannibal openly chuckles at him, teasingly pulling him in further, holding him tight.

„I see my work is done. Sleep for a moment, beloved.“

Will has the fleeting thought that something about that was important, but cannot keep it, darkness pulling him under again.

_____________________

 

It is midnight when he is carefully and softly shaken awake, Hannibal hovering close to him, completely dressed in his ugly-touristy-outfit, complete with the ugly cap. Will licks his lips, raising his eyebrows, tries to keep his eyes open, feeling for the tie on his hands and finally realizing it is gone and he is also dressed. In a similar fashion. He looks down at himself disbelieving, and sees the smirk on Hannibals face erupt into a full self-satisfied grin for a moment from the corner of his eye. Well. There will be a reckoning. Or something. He groans, pushing himself up into a seating position, and then chuckles at himself. He gestures at his rather tight pants with is right hand, indicating the level of sneakiness needed to dress him, more than amused now.

„Not bad, not bad.“

Hannibal goes and gets him a glass of water which he gratefully accepts. 

„It was my pleasure.“

„I could’ve dressed myself, you know.“

„Yes. You could have.“

Of course. The possessive bastard. Will realizes that nothing about this actually irritates him anymore, the thought unsettlingly warm. He licks his lips, and drags a hand through his still damp and slightly sweaty curls, deciding to tease a bit.

„No hair wash? I might be slightly disappointed.“

Hannibal looks at him for a moment, eyes fathomless and then stalks over to him, Will gulping, and then his head is wrenched up, his mouth is devoured, lips bitten until he is panting again harshly, the mouth releasing his hovering an inch from his.

„I will make sure you will not wake, even if there were a bomb going off in the room, when I am through with you the next time.“

Will pushes himself up and kisses Hannibal lightly, smiling wide, eyes sparkling.

„Promises, promises.“

Hannibal looks at him with a weird glint in his eye, expression suddenly serious, sobering Will up real quick as well. He traces a finger down Wills cheekbone.

„Yes. Promises, promises.“

He stands up and turns to their luggage, collecting his things, leaving Will to wonder what the hell just happened.

__________________

 

Their little deep night U.S.-immigration stunt is a joke. The cop and FBI agent in Will moan and rant at the obvious carelessness by which the border is protected, but obviously his current self is rather happy about it now. 

Hannibal sends him through first, sunglasses on, chewing gum, yawning loudly, the man in the little cabin yawning with him, never really looking up. He puts some slur in his speech and tripping in his walk, indicating tiredness and gets his luggage, heading for the exit slowly, keeping his head down. He takes a cab downtown to a small shady hotel, pays for a room for precisely 6 hours (for heavens sake) and drops onto the seedy mattress, shaking his head. He texts the room number to Hannibals phone disguised as a fast food order. 

Hannibal enters the room exactly 15 minutes later, the same amount of time he put between their immigration ‚attempts‘. Will snorts to himself.   
Hannibal looks at the bed and then sits himself primly on a chair which promptly makes Will spread himself out on the bed more, Hannibal scowling at him. 

„Do you wish me to tell you of the things alive in that blanket?“

„You picked this, Hannibal, I’ll just shower later.“

Hannibal just scowls at him for a while longer, but concedes the point in silence.  
They wait, Will dozing again for a while. After 2 hours a text comes in with an address, indicating a private air field. Will levels a dark look at Hannibal.

„Just how many of these friends with debts do you have??“

Hannibal chuckles softly, getting up.

„Not as many as one might think. However, a certain… reputation and a well filled purse very much help in these matters. Certain individuals are excited to know that I may be in their debt at one point, something that is of course rather presumptuous and slightly rude of them. I have no intention on being at anybody beck and call.“

He looks at Will sideways, a wry smile playing at his mouth.

„Except, apparently, yours.“

Will looks up at him, eyes soft. 

„As I am at yours.“

Hannibal chuckles.

„You are a wild thing, unpredictable, and fierce, locking horns with the beast in me. I sincerely hope you will never completely be at my beck and call. Once, that may have been something I wished to influence you to, but now… now that the chrysalis has broken and you emerge, I only wish to merge my darkness with yours.“

Will swallows, the emotion of Hannibals words hitting him with a crashing full force, finally giving a bitter, self deprecating laugh.

„I don’t think I am worthy of this regard you have for me.“

Hannibal comes over to him, turning him around, to face the little dirty mirror next to the door, pressing up behind him, encircling his chest, making Will put his hands up against the wall to keep their weight. Will slowly makes eye contact with Hannibal, humbled beyond measure, the red drawing him in, the low light dancing in Hannibals eyes, gaze burning, voice raw, voice intense against his right ear. 

„If we had the time, I would take you again, here, now, still open and wet from before, take these thoughts away, again. There is not a single soul other than yours that I have desired as much, no body I found not only beautiful but intriguing, no mind I wish to know of for the rest of my life. I would lament your death for a thousand years, and rip this world apart for you, for us, now.“

Hannibal gaze is black now, and Will is deeply aware of the profound feeling he emits. His vision shimmers and he sees rather than feels the tear track down his cheek. He closes his eyes, and pushes his hips back, shaking with emotion. 

„Please…“

„We will be late. There is no guarantee they will wait.“

Will shakes his head, raises one hand to Hannibals head, tangling the hair in his fingers, opening his eyes again, the blue burning, demanding.

„So be quick.“

Hannibal sighs an almost tortured sound and then drags Wills pants down with one hand, the other doing the same to his own, lining up.

„Two minutes.“

And with that he takes him, hard, Will gaping at their reflection, vision swimming. It’s fast and breathtaking and base, Hannibal lifting Will up a bit with every snap of his hips, Wills breath fogging the glass. Hannibal grips his hips, changes the angle and slips into staccato pushes, right against his prostrate, Will opening his mouth in a silent breathless shout, his orgasm ripped from him when Hannibals right hand pulls gracelessly and rather brutally on his cock, coating his fist and Hannibal stills, a moment of absolute blissful clarity between them zinging in their gaze, before he comes in him, left hand fingers brutal on his hip.

Will pants a laugh, moaning with it, cursing quietly when Hannibal pulls out again, cleaning them up in quick motions with an almost clean towel, feeling heavenly debauched. Hannibal raises his eyebrows at him, a mischievous look to him when he comes near and re-fastens Wills pants. 

„1 minute, 45 seconds. I think we may be able to reach that plane after all.“

Will hits him hard on the shoulder, but drags him near for a quick kiss anyway.


	12. Chapter 12

The plane is there when they reach the air strip, a small private plane, and they’re the only passengers on board anyway, the pilot only confirming their destination and flight time, roughly 5 hours, and then leaving them to their own devices. Hawaii is gone within a few minutes, Will so thoroughly tired now he doesn’t even look back, settling instead into the seat right away, feet up, almost instantly asleep.

He wakes when the plane starts it’s decent, groggily staring into the blinding sun, squinting his eyes. Hannibal appears from somewhere behind him and offers him a cup of coffee, sits down across the aisle. 

„We will arrive at Nut Tree Airport in about half an hour.“

„Nut… Tree??“

„Yes. A small airport just north of San Francisco. There will be a car for us. From there, we will drive to Reno.“

Will snorts and cannot help himself.

„Yeah? Why not Vegas?“

„We are not there for gambling, I believe. And the surveillance is too heavy in the casinos. And apparently, our target destination is closer to Reno.“

That sobers Will up. He fidgets in his seat, Hannibal watching him in a rather predatory way.

„Tell me, Will, do you experience any second thoughts?“

Will sighs and lets his head fall against the headrest, tracing the pattern on the cup. 

„No. Not per se. However, so much of this … has been feeling like a dream, no, not a dream but like an extended vacation, our old lifes suspended in shadows. It is unreal to see the goal within reach. And I haven’t even checked once on Tattle Crime yet and, or, inquired the status of my old life. It just… rushes back now, being right under their noses.“

Hannibal sits unnatural still for a moment, uncharacteristically fidgeting with his cup. It makes Wills skin prickle. 

„I may have kept some information from you. It has been relayed to me by Chiyo almost 6 months ago.“

Will looks at him for a moment, then almost slams the cup on the little table besides him, getting up, agitatedly walking up and down the aisle for a moment more, stopping in front of Hannibal, hands deliberately relaxed at his side.

„Tell. Me.“

Hannibal clears his throat, looking towards his own cup on a table, words coming slowly.

„Apparently, directly after learning that you got your affairs in order prior to my so called escape, your wife was invited to the FBI for a statement. Since Jack Crawford was at the various crime scenes still, combing the coast for us, some trainee showed her copies of the letters I sent to you. She insisted on watching the footage of our conversations afterwards and she filed for divorce the next day. Since you already instructed your lawyer accordingly, the divorce went through within 2 weeks.“

He raises his eyes to Will, expression vaguely unhappy.

„She saw ‚us‘, Will. You have not been a married man since before we reached Scotland.“

„Huh.“

It’s all there is to say, as far as Will is concerned, the air punched out from him, sitting down again heavily, the feeling in his gut at once a dull pain and a fierce elation. He shakes his head to clear it.

„Did she… keep the dogs?“

Hannibal sighs heavily and Will realizes he fears for the worst, expecting Will to yell at him, or…. or what? Run back to his old life? Stage a wild goose hunt for Winston? The thought is utterly hilarious to Will, and he shakes his head, only half listening to Hannibal.

„She did.“

Wills shaking head turns to nodding, a sorrow he didn’t know he had lifting. He levels Hannibal with a half amused, half angry expression.

„You, with all your knowledge and manners and refined taste, and fucking killing skills and more dead bodies in your proverbial cellar than I can ever count… you, my fucking personal tormentor, you are an idiot.“

Hannibal gapes at him for a moment like a fish out of the water, then forcefully closes his mouth and clears his throat again. Will pushes his hands over his face into his hair, still shaking his head, finally letting that laugh out that just keeps bubbling up, rather inappropriately.

„You know what the worst thing is? That Jack knew, better than I did probably, and he just let me walk right into it, sacrificing her as well.“

He swallows, eyes closing for a moment.

„Promise me, you’ll leave her alone.“

„I have no intention on calling on her, you must know that. I … did not like her being your wife, but I… cannot fault her. Not anymore.“

Will sobers up slightly, breathing in slowly, trying to cool his rampant emotions. He looks at Hannibal, really looks for a moment, sees the scars, the wrinkles, the strong, even beautiful features, the sharp eyes and the luscious yet cruel mouth, the white strands of hair and he knows, KNOWS that he will want to spend the rest of this life with him. Free or incarcerated, but together. 

He pushes himself up, and walks over to him, slips into his lap, knees on both sides of Hannibals legs, arms around his neck.

„Something else?“

„Only that apparently Freddy Lounds is about to publish a book about us, aptly named ‚Murder Husbands‘.“

Will hums, remembering the question about the term that Hannibal put to him on the cargo ship. The one he wasn’t able to answer then. He smirks softly.

„Well, then it would be only fair to actually be, wouldn’t it? After all, I’m freshly divorced and Las Vegas is around the corner. How about you make me an honest man?“

Hannibal stills under him, his voice dangerous.

„I have never felt the need to marry, Will, nor felt the wish to be with someone before you. It would be wise not to tease me about this.“

Will feels a wry yet surprisingly happy smile play at the corner of his mouth.

„I’m not teasing. In fact, this could be our best shot, in Vegas at the insanely romantic drive through chapel. After all we’re wanted fugitives, we can hardly make a big fuzz out of it. And a 5 minute gunshot wedding leaves no room for government interference.“

He presses a small but breathless kiss against Hannibals lips.

„However, we need to deal with our business in the Rockies first.“

Hannibals hands come up and softly encircle his throat, the thumbs playing with his adams apple, Hannibals brain appearing short-circuited, eyes heavily lidded, mouth open halfway, voice almost swallowed by the roar of the planes engines.

„Yes.“

The fasten-seatbelt sign above them lights up, and Will leans forward a bit.

„You better buckle us both in, because I’m not going anywhere.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo.... this turned into a monster and I decided to split.
> 
> Next part is already in the works, directly continuing from here.
> 
> Let me know what you think :))


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